


Indulgences

by calla_lilalma



Category: Black Clover - Tabata Yuki (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Body Worship, Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Porn with Feelings, set after the elf invasion/reincarnation arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:41:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21744679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calla_lilalma/pseuds/calla_lilalma
Summary: As consequence of receiving approval and power, instincts begin to rage in his beloved and the way to appease them overlaps with the gratification of Nozel’s own needs and desires, kept firmly suppressed within him.Tonight will be dedicated solely to them.
Relationships: Fuegoleon Vermillion/Nozel Silva
Comments: 22
Kudos: 224





	Indulgences

**Author's Note:**

> Hei!  
> I have no clue what i'm doing but no regrets either.  
> This took so long i have forgotten how words function from working at it so much.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :)

One of the lessons nobles learn from early on is to always be presentable to the eye.

Nozel has grown to be assessing and caring for every detail of his appearance without a second thought. From his care routines to minimize the darkness underneath his eyes and the blemishes on his skin, caring for his hair until every strand is as precise as he wants to be. It's something that's being drilled into every member of the Silva family as basic etiquette. To present themselves is to represent the house.

Specifically to him, presentability translates to modesty and coverage. He’s always comfortable wearing at least one layer of clothing in his person. Even in the warm days, his long sleeves are thin and airy, but cover him nonetheless. In the familiarity of the Silva mansion, where the scrutiny not only never ceases, it increases to near unbearable levels, there is no room for letting your guard down in any possible way. His cape and the fur around his shoulders are an additional layer that provides its own reassuring weight. Particularity has become a trait of his in this subject, everything has to be assessed at length and approved by him if it’s about to become part of his wardrobe.

It has become an additional armor; it hides him and provides him the peace of controlling the picture he shows to the world around him, consequently controlling their perception.

However, there is no world now, in this fairly distant property and its small tower; it is the meaning of the whole night, as well as the whole day he’s been waiting here in isolation. Watching as the hours pass in the form of the sun rays dimming, give way to twilight and the dark night with its moonlight in turn; unknowing of the life outside of the walls and the heavy door of the room.

Thusly, his rules have been overturned. Freshly out of a long, throughout bath, he feels out of his skin. His hair dried to its natural silky strands, all falling on his shoulders and collarbones, loose and waving to frame and reveal every feature of his face. All the Silva emblems have been gone, none found in the room.

The only comfort is the robe wrapped around his body pooling to the floor, dragging as he walks.

In the full body mirror of the room, when looking at himself, a blush crawls to his cheeks. One that matches the dominant colour of the robe. His own preference has always been a cold colour palette, tones of blue, white with the occasional other neutral colours like black. He considers them the most suitable for him, has grown comfortable in them.

He believes the polar opposite about the crimson of this robe. It’s strange on him; too stark, too bright. It accents the paleness of his skin, clashes with the silvery white of his hair.

The silky garment overwhelms his slender frame, made to look it even more so by details such as the wideness of the sleeves and the flowlines widening subtly beginning from the waist down with the darker shades of burgundy embroidery skillfully sewn on this sleeves and hems in its whole in beautiful shapes. It fits him like it was tailored for him, a thought spreading more warmth to his skin, woven beautifully and intricately like a gown he sees in all the royal events.

It would be a severely indecent one at that, the sheerness of the fabric poorly hides his body and its shapes, which accompanied with the cut of the top deeply showing off his chest won’t ever mistake the garment’s purpose to no one.

The person in the reflection isn’t someone unknown. No matter the drastic changes, the rare softness and gentleness of his eyes, the regality of his posture and his eyes don’t ever change. No, the person staring back at him with bright, open gaze is someone much more dangerous.

It’s the manifestation of his own deepest desires, the one buried underneath all the layers, outer and inner alike. What he’s learnt to never let show in the event it’s used as a weakness to hurt him or everything that he cares for.

Yet none of that matters as he feels a very familiar mana, intense and dense even from the distance and the obstacles, approaching. It slowly overwhelms his senses.

Nozel brushes his already brushed, unknotted hair out of nerves, quickly changing his mind in its placement and fixing it to sit on his shoulders and frame from where it was flowing at his shoulder blades, cover as much as they can the skin of his collarbones and the curve of his neck and shoulders, already unused to the lack of fabric doing it instead. Similarly, he tightens the flaps of his robe around his body.

The door, right across from him, unlocks and slowly opens. Nozel's breath can help but hitch is the surprise as his gaze follow the source. His heart flutters and his face gains more crimson. His eyes, though, they never stray away.

Fuegoleon enters the room with the pose and the strength that made his recent coma until just a couple of weeks ago appear like a terrible nightmare. Their eyes remain connected to each other as the other closes the door and locks it behind him without breaking the contact between them.

Both of them remain motionless. Nozel withstands the intensity of his stare, its scrutiny bringing him heat instead of cold, and his fingers fidget with the wide sleeves of the robe, traces the intricate design. Suddenly the silk feels like chaffing his skin.

Fuegoleon finally approaches him, slowly and carefully, similarly to a predator and its prey. Yet he stops in a polite distance between them. It almost makes him smile.

A broad, calloused palm comes to cup his face, warm and welcome to his cool skin. It stays there, as if he still processes whether Nozel is real or not.

“Did you wait?” the question is almost timid in its wonderment.

It’s then that Nozel finally breaks his stare, closes his eyes to nuzzle it, put his own hand above it and keep it there, feeling it flinch a little, brushing against his jaw.

“Of course I did.” He murmurs, opens his eyes once more. “As I promised you I would.”

The copy of the key belonging to him was left unused, at the same place it was placed last, spared no second thought. His first one only being throwing it from the high window of the tower.

A thumb moves to caress his cheekbone as the other’s eyes fill with obvious relief and plenty incredulousness. They travel along the rest of his facial features, then down to the column of his neck, to his clothed body, to what the sheerness undoubtedly shows under its thin layer.

Nozel takes the initiative to put his hands on his captain's robe and removes it completely, throwing it carelessly far into a corner of the room. Only on occasions like these all propriety leaves him. Fuegoleon’s lips quirk up, knowing exactly that.

He lowers his hand to hold his own, lifts it to urge him to twirl. Nozel scoffs lightly, turning once, twice, showing off the elegant way the fabric airily follows his movements in a scarlet wave.

“…Will you?” Nozel doesn’t need more to understand. He lets his other arm from where it holds the silky garment together and as modest as possible, lets it completely fall from his shoulders to the floor and shows himself. Every spec of him is in full display now.

Soon, he's gathered into strong arms and lifted from the hands under his thighs. An embarrassing sound of surprise leaves him. He's placed into the plush bed like he's fragile, splayed with Fuegoleon's strong form looming over him, pupils dilated and colour gaining a slightly caramelized quality.

If he hadn’t learnt to look for it, it would pass unnoticed.

“It’s alright.” He assures in a calm whisper when the touch retreats a little, the loss of their warmth substantial, when lips part to question him. The question doesn’t matter, “Tonight is for you.”

Swallowing audibly, Fuegoleon nods and fully stands, starts rummaging through the drawers, his back turned. Nozel is sure that the golden hue is present for longer, now that he can’t see them.

While the secret is known between them, Fuegoleon still tries to hide it. While it was effective for a while and still is to most outsiders, even then some of them have sensed the odd behavior.

As for those who know him as well as Nozel does, it became obvious that Fuegoleon didn’t wake from the coma the same, as they expected.

Truthfully, it took him a month to notice, with all the rebuilding and the running and the responsibilities that kept them with mere seconds alone in each other’s presence, but the…symptoms were there in the beginning and had worried Nozel since.

Aggressiveness appeared to be sizzling under Fuegoleon's skin, unintentionally making his mana denser around him to repel others. The _possessiveness_ too; it was what should have made Nozel realize it.

Fuegoleon isn’t a possessive man; he’s pragmatic and realistic first, attributes that have shone and polished as he grew up to the captaincy and training his younger brother. The only way possessiveness can be seen is when those he cares are injured or gravely threatened. He's confident in the relationships with his family, Nozel and those close to him and around him, preferring earnestness and sincerity, despite the risks and openings to lies and deceit if he can help it.

Which is why Nozel in the beginning had dismissed it as left-over aggression from the elf invasion so little ago. Pent up energy from being deep into a coma and incapable of helping; it must have still been eating at him.

However, as everything went back to a semblance of before, the injured had recovered and were up for their own fights, that feeling wasn’t soothed.

His beloved became more openly affectionate, standing and walking closer to him, warping his arm around his waist in public settings. Nozel didn’t argue, basked at the attention Starved himself for even the slightest of touches, for sneaking only one minute of him sitting in the other’s lap and hugging him in his office.

Then there was the aggression towards others and the suspicion planted its seed in his mind.

No matter who Nozel talked to, if Fuegoleon saw, he became curt and cold, pulling Nozel to kiss him dizzy and breathless right after. Of course he didn’t realize then either, for the same reason as before.

His suspicious became fact the moment when Fuegoleon barely restrained himself from snapping at _Leopold,_ a snarl beginning to form on his lips at the young one calling out to them in the palace, masterfully restrained. That’s where the first flickering of gold in violet, a fraction of a fraction, became clear as something alarming. He might be strict with Leopold but never unloving or cruel; his soft spot for his brother is obvious to everyone.

Mereoleona had caught on to it too, he learns after digging around a little deeper. Something in her bristled from nearly the first moment of their reunion with her brother; not putting her off exactly, more like a feeling a challenging aura around him. She had let it pass, she too blaming his condition, but she doubted it as the tension didn't let up as time passed.

After many questions and stubbornness from all of them, Fuegoleon finally explained the reason for his strange behavior. A tired expression crossed and stayed on his face, eyes closing and sighing more than he's ever done in his life.

“It’s Salamander’s effect.” He explained. “A result of the power I’m given.”

It’s not possession, he had assured a worried Nozel immediately. Nor a curse nor a disease. They are reassured that he recovered from the coma perfectly and is very much himself to their relief.

But Salamander, he learns is an ancient creature with a primal character, fitting perfectly to the element of nature it's made of and controls, and it appeals to that very nature of the person it accepts, for better or for worse. The power roots deep in the instincts, pushing them to the front.

It explains the aggression and the pent-up energy; Mereoleona immediately challenges him to spar, a vicious grin on her face and eyes full of excitement like a kid receiving a mountain of birthday gifts. Nozel had watched the fight in worry, fondness and exasperation mixed in one, the flames rising to insane levels, but in the long end, Fuegoleon seems more at peace with himself, almost smiling and exhausted in a satiated way that guaranteed into some restful sleep his mana less like a rampaging forest fire.

When Nozel himself offered, he received a hard rejection and a harder look, so immediate that he felt offended and confrontational. Fuegoleon only embraces him, hard enough to cut his breathing, refusing to look at him in the eyes. He was sure that they weren't completely their own colour.

“It’ll have the opposite effect.” he had stopped him promptly, “Fighting is the furthest I want to do with you.” he whispered to him, harsh and sharp, as if banishing the idea from existence. His eyes flickered again and Nozel thought they had a beauty in them, one untamed that causes shivers down his spine.

Which leads them to the present; abiding what the other instinct is demanding from him. The opposite of fighting, which inadvertently is left to Mereoleona to take care of as she supposedly threatened his position as the strongest and the leader.

Nozel’s call is to take care of the basic carnal desires of his beloved, the other cause of his possessiveness.

He watches in anticipation as the other comes back to him with an armful of golden jewelry and precious stones in amusement. Those must be new, Fuegoleon is far from frivolous in such things. Nozel makes himself comfortable again, refusing to shy away from the hungry gaze roaming and sending heat wherever it lands.

As if he’s made of porcelain, Fuegoleon takes hold of his right hand and gingerly puts a ring onto the fourth finger, next to his pinky. The ring finger, as most people call it, where everyone but them with their unique traditions put their engagement and wedding rings. For a moment, he hopes and fantasizes, eyes on the ruby and gold band.

More join it, rings with sapphires and amethyst on his other fingers, same as the ones on his other hand. On the upper part of his palms one thin chain is put on each hand. A bracelet for each of his upper arms. It’s all so extravagant in his opinion, as he watches them move at the slightest of movements; he’s never been the one with jewelry apart from the minimum required to show his status, the little gold in his uniform, the Silva crosses and brooch. His unpierced ears are even adorned with pretty, long and clipped earrings.

Tonight he wears all the excess luxury he refrained from in his entire life until now, all in gold. The bracelets clasped on his wrists, fingers trace its inside and goosebumps erupt on his skin.

It nothing compared to the body chains that come to decorate his torso and hips, all slowly and methodically placed on him, while Fuegoleon’s eyes are a permanent golden when he looks up. He becomes entranced by them in turn.

It should have been worrisome, the change caused in his beloved, by such a thing. However, it remains as _him_. The colour might be different and the pupils narrowing by the moment, but the affection in his eyes just as warm, just as effective in pushing Nozel’s heart off to fly.

He had offered to put them on himself, while arranging this ordeal, face burning and voice miraculously unbreaking. To be ready for the moment that Fuegoleon opened that door - and avoid the embarrassment it’d cause him- but the other had insisted vehemently that it’s part of the appeal, part of the desire that’s secretly spoken to him to indulge in his treasures wholeheartedly. It was then that he learned of the subconscious acquisition of the gold jewelry, something Fuegoleon had no interest in, with the image of Nozel wearing them in his mind.

It appears that Salamander adheres to the myths of its famous species.

Only stories have been passed around regarding dragons, incapable of knowing if it’s a legend or reality. They are infamous elemental creatures and a prominent feature on fairytales told all around the world. Salamander’s existence is providing no answers and plenty more questions. Though it does have similarities with its depictions in literature.

Just like many animals, dragons are said to be territorial and possessive over the things they consider theirs. The unique feature of dragons in the tales is that their possessions are recounted to be precious metals, especially gold and jewels, in abundant heaps in their caves or castles.

It is an amusing similarity, he muses; the gold, the castle and him inside it, trapped only in pretend. Like the royalty the fairytales narrate being abducted by the dragons, before they are killed by some brave knight that ends up marrying them in the happy endings of all the stories.

Fingers trail up his hip, his outer thigh at the string of diamonds that surrounds his waist and down each of his thighs. To the length of his leg, which is lifted up by the ankle tenderly, a golden cuff with plenty of precious stones and engravings is clasped around it as well as one thinner version at his calf. The process is repeated to his other leg and the heaviness of those ornaments becomes substantial.

Nozel's chest is heaving, the jewelry cold against his flustered skin, against the heat slowly boiling the blood in his veins. He feels far from trapped, far from scared. Looking down at himself with all the new additions glimmering on his pale form with the moonlight, he finds himself admonishing all those fairy tales.

When young, he had imagined himself being one of the knights in the story, but in a funny twist of events he finds himself the damsel, the company and treasure of the dragon.

Why leave when one is so well cared for, treated preciously like he is now? Knights are unnecessary when golden eyes are looking at him with such regard.

Fuegoleon has only caressed him gently, nothing more than what he usually does when stealing moments in their hectic reality, and Nozel is already red in the face, with a frantic heart and a steadily awakening arousal. 

After getting his fill of devouring him with his eyes, Fuegoleon finally, finally leans in and connects their lips. Nozel lets out the mewl that's been sitting on the tip of his tongue at the contact, eyes already fluttering shut by themselves and parting his lips to let Fuegoleon’s tongue delve deep into his mouth and take his breath away and overwhelm him with his familiar taste. His arms, heavy by the multiple bracelets chiming with each other, come around his neck, fingers tangling with fiery vermilion hair.

He’s still wearing too much, and he pulls at the collar of his shirt to show his displeasure. Fuegoleon smirks, nips at Nozel’s bottom lip in scolding for him to be patient, pulls back to make quick work at taking it off, revealing what’s under. His eyes can barely feast at the bare skin and the scars that decorate it, as his attention is swept up by the return of eager lips upon his own.

His hands however are eager to touch and feel the sun-kissed, roughened up skin in their stead, the jewelry making slight clinking noise when they clatter. He's warm all over, the natural heat ever present, inviting Nozel to relax and be comfortable because this man is his _home_. They blindly start roaming slowly from strong broad shoulders, to the expanse of his back, the bumps of his spine to the front of his defined chest and down to his abdomen. Affirming the existence of each scar by heart, each discoloration and anaglyph hiding a story behind it.

He takes his time with it, mostly because he’s been kissed within an inch of his life, the rest of the senses are fogging and his concentration is dulling by the heat slowly vibrating within him.

His eyes open in shock as his hands are grabbed away from their mindless exploration, his wrists are held above his head by an iron grip. His breathing is shallow as he looks up at Fuegoleon’s scorching gaze, golden eyes staying unyielding for now.

So far, so well; he’s serving his needs, the other’s instincts are on the surface. Nozel doesn’t struggle against the grip, simply continues staring at what will come next with feverish anticipation.

The grip on his wrists doesn’t let up, keeps him in place as his lips are captured again. Fuegoleon positions himself fully above him, nudges his legs open, which Nozel unconsciously does to give plenty of space for him to come between them. He looms over him, their bodies not touching and Nozel finds it torturing not to arch his back to feel the heat of the other’s core. The space between them pains him, he wants to feel so desperately he whines in the kiss, vibrations sent from his lips to Fuegoleon’s. When it goes by ignored, his eyes involuntarily sting with unshed tears.

It’s been so long since the last time they made love in such an unhurried manner. Time-wise perhaps it wasn’t that long, but an eternity of events has occurred, each more gut wrenching than the other. He almost lost… the thought fills him with worry and anguish after the immense relief that's been keeping him together thus far.

It’s pitiful; how terrible he is with emotions. When he saw his beloved lying down, unconscious and still in the bed and not standing nor fighting like he was meant to, like he would want to, only coldness and calculating rage were found in him. No tears or time to process it fully, he was always onto the next step.

When Fuegoleon recovered, it was in the middle of the battle and everything else was pushed to the back of his mind for the sake of defeating the threat. And when the dust and destruction had stopped and settled, he hadn’t felt anything new because things had fitted back to before so smoothly it made it all appear as a terrible nightmare.

Now of all damn times all those emotions surge back at him. The worry of something that had already passed, the sense of loss. It all comes like one last tidal wave long after a storm in the least appropriate moment, when it wasn’t supposed to be about him, showing how selfish and pitiful and unworthy he is. The ache in his chest deepen at the thought, as he tries to hold any unnecessary tears in.

As if sensing his distress, Fuegoleon kisses the corners of his eyes tenderly. Nozel steels his resolve and effectively blinks their last traces away, shaking his head to show he's alright. The eyes he sees become violet for one second and he tilts his head to the side, showing off his next and keeping his eyes half closed in a coy, challenging look.

Lips dive for his neck, oddly the only place sparse with decorative gold; in a throwaway thought, he remembers Fuegoleon tracing the golden band on his uniform frowning with distaste. Now it would only get in the way to the mouth nipping and biting marks on his skin. Each time his teeth dig into his sensitive skin, suck colour to his pale complexion causes him to mewl in pleasure, coaxing the other even further.

The whole expanse from the back of his ear to the crook of his shoulder becomes littered with kiss and sucking marks. Too many of them are too high up, they’ll be difficult and tedious to cover up. Yet Fuegoleon has a proud look on his face as he admires his work on him like a painter to a canvas, nosing the underside of his jaw as if to scent him and leave more of himself on Nozel for the outside world to see. A stark comparison to the way they’ve held back all this time, with both of them careful to not leave any visible indications to keep their low and private profile.

It’s a relief to know that it was a hindrance to both of them, not only him; every time he has to remind himself to keep his visible skin clean and inconspicuous and also not leave marks of his own, despite craving it. As tonight proceeds, he continues ignoring the world outside this very room and his own consequential inhibitions, revels in the attention lavished upon him.

Once Fuegoleon decides that the myriad of colours painted on his skin are satisfying, he moves to spread heat to his collarbones and sternum, his free hand trails to grope at his chest, his thumb circling around one of his nipples and sending jolts of electricity through him. He didn’t shy away from keeping his voice trapped, his moan freely bouncing on the walls along with his shallow breathing.

He looks down and connects his gaze with focused gold. Fuegoleon nips his collarbone and flicks his nipple, smirks smugly at the sudden whimper Nozel releases. His occupied hand lets go of his wrists, turns his attention to his chest and particularly his neglected nipple. He takes it in his mouth and Nozel downright keens, arching his back forward, every single nerve set ablaze with desire.

Fuegoleon takes advantage of how sensitive he is, how thinking slows down once immersed in pleasure and makes sure to keep him wired and begging for more. His eyelids flutter on and his toes curl when his nipples are played with by fingers and tongue alike. It’s embarrassing how he’s become such a mess only from slight touches and only his upper body being played with. Only a spare, blurry thought is given to his twitching arousal, untouched by neither of them and left to weep precum at the slightest caress.

Teeth pull at his nipple and he jumps once more. His arms are heavy from the pure gold decorating them, going numb from immobility. It takes all of the strength he’s left to lift them up and place them around his shoulders. His nails dig at the rough skin, leaves his own crescent moon marks and scratches on his shoulders.

Nozel doesn’t have time to get used to the stimuli as lips and hands are travelling down to his legs and his thighs, Fuegoleon’s head lowers to nuzzle down at his stomach, splaying kisses and all over and nuzzling the flat area.

An embarrassing yelp escapes him when he’s flipped over on his hands and knees in one fluid and sudden motion, back arched and his behind in the air, presenting shamelessly to his lover. He lets out a breathless chuckle when a pillow is placed under him as support, like it was their first time again and took all kinds of precautions.

Hands explore along his back and cause goosebumps from the difference between the warmth of natural fiery skin and the lifeless precious metals, his muscles relaxing from the touch. Hot lips tend to each bump of his spine, their traces bringing goosebumps while hands trail along his thighs, hips and stomach.

His arms give out when Fuegoleon starts paying full attention to his rear, kissing and biting his cheeks before fully spreading them to expose his entrance completely, already twitching in need.

He hadn’t even prepared himself in the bath, Fuegoleon had all but ordered him not too while negotiating tonight, jaw clenched and eyes flashing golden in the middle of his office so suddenly and fiercely that it took them both by surprise.

Nozel smirks at the sheets; at this ridiculous man getting jealous even at the idea of him touching himself for the purpose of being readier for him, wanting to be the one bringing him throughout pleasure.

Fuegoleon hums in satisfaction of knowing that his wishes were abided, licks a stripe all the way to his entrance and Nozel immediately arches back purely out of reflex with a guttural moan from deep within his thorax. He’s held in place when Fuegoleon repeats the movement, changing the pace of his tongue on his rim until it’s wet enough for his liking. His tongue finally enters him and Nozel’s knees tremble.

Only Fuegoleon’s hands are holding him up at this point, the wet muscle delving as deep as possible inside him, swirling and melting his mind moment by moment. Nozel wants to urge him to hurry, to go faster but his speech comes out only as strained moans and slurred half words. Still, he doesn’t think Fuegoleon would listen to him. It’s one of those the occasions when he wants to enjoy his time taking Nozel apart slowly and gently but no less torturously.

Once he’s had his taste, Fuegoleon reaches for the oils to douse his fingers with and the cool air earns a whimper out of him, desperately seeking for warmth.

A couple of long seconds later, a long slick finger traces his rim almost teasingly. It pauses right as his fingertip stretches it and Nozel gasps, slowly turning his head to watch with teary eyes.

Their gazes meet and the gold irises change to violet for the briefest moment, taking in the expression of his face. He can’t look away from his lover's pinning dominance, compelled to show every reaction as the finger buries itself deep to the knuckle, feeling him up slowly. His knees buckle but he doesn’t fall, stays set in place to take it as Fuegoleon holds him up solely from his stomach, his wide palm covering the whole area between his diaphragm and his lower belly.

The finger pumps in and out of him in a dragging pace, in and out while Nozel clenches his inner walls around it, trying to set a pace. Only for it to continue being ignored, at the other’s mercy.

The second finger and the wider stretch it gives him, the slight burn a shot of relief. Fuegoleon explores around, seemingly clumsily but they both know better. Fuegoleon knows his body inside out, what spots make him sob in pleasure and right now he avoids the most erogenous, only probes around his prostate.

His own arousal has an angry red colour, leaking precome on the sheets, remains ignored to all but the faint touch of the body chains that happen to graze it. Nozel feels so much from just two fingers in him that he doesn’t entertain the thought of touching it or humping in the sheets for some relief. He wants to last and he will; Fuegoleon wouldn’t let him even if he wanted to.

From teasing the area around, the fingers suddenly press on his prostate in an unexpected move. Nozel’s whole body goes taunt, his head shoots up and the sudden assault, back arches and his ass pushes up for more. At the same moment the third finger joins the two already inside, introducing the pleasure of the burn of the stretch.

His stamina is running out, the heat coiling in his belly right where the hands lays threatens to snap. He has been walking on a never-ending tightrope, his balance flattering with each moment. Until the moment that he loses it comes at the assault on his sweet spot, he’s falling and he sees total white. His cock spurts ropes of white in the sheets, completely untouched and useless.

Fuegoleon’s patience must run out too, as he pistons his hand and out of him quicker and with more vigor, each time precisely pressing at his prostate, his mouth back on his neck, biting once at his nape. More than all the others that came before it, teeth break at his skin and Nozel is sure it’ll draw blood. His eyes go wide, a harsh sob tears out from his throat from deep within his chest. Once they let go, his head falls weakly on the pillow, whimpering from the overstimulation as Fuegoleon soothes the sting with his tongue and kisses that trace up his jaw up to his ear to al but chew the shell of his right ear.

Nozel’s body has long been reshaped by Fuegoleon, all those years his pleasure can now be orchestrated without touching it. He’s become completely shameless, and the humiliation has long left him; it’s a part of him now. They are connected to their very cores and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to recognize or accept anyone else’s touch. Nothing will feel the same, invoke such emotions and pleasure in him.

He rides out his orgasm rocking his hips with the fingers’ pace, slowing just enough to not be painful but still have him curling his toes in pleasure. Right after he fully comes down, panting like he trained for weeks restlessly, they slip out of him, leaving him to wince and mewl in protest at the loss of warmth. There is still the adamant hand clutching to his stomach, feeling his muscles of his abdomen contract involuntarily.

Clothes rustling noises reach his ears and moments later, something larger and hotter than fingers lines up to his entrance and Nozel panics, the sobs now freely jumping out from deep his thorax, tears blurring his vision.

“W-wait!” he croaks, and everything pauses. Nozel looks over his shoulder, his bottom lip trembling.

“I want-” he breathes sharply and swallows the lump in his throat, “I want to see your face ‘Leon. Pl-please.” He pleads desperately. He needs to see the reaction he elicits from his lover, to be reassured that he’s not the only one so hopelessly and helplessly in love. 

To his relief, he’s immediately and gently turned around, laying on his back and with his waist positioned on the pillow.

Thumbs wipe out the leaking tears so he can now clearly see they are overwhelmingly violet; they are not changing back and Nozel fears he might have blown it with his stupid requests, that his selfishness ruined everything again-

Fuegoleon plants a kiss on his lips, his forehead resting upon Nozel’s in comfort. He’s the one that deepens it this time, shows that’s he’s alright now that he can look at him, see his handsome features fully, not placated by unconsciousness, his eyes open even if they can now be a colour he doesn’t recognize. He’ll learn it if he has to; it’s a new part of his lover that he’ll accept without question, lessen the burden of the recent developments, the struggle with his deep-rooted primal instinct that has now risen and the dangers it may hide.

Because for Nozel, it’s anything but trouble- it’d never be as long as he lives. From Fuegoleon’s gaze to the very reason why they are here, why he is here and only he must be here and no replacement or substitute will suffice, it wrecks him with delight. The fact that he too is so engraved to Fuegoleon’s being that his most animalist self is calling for _him and only him_ grasps at his heart and soul and tears it off his body. Each part of himself doesn’t fully belong to him. He is needed by his lover, a need feverishly reciprocated; Nozel will gladly be used by his man and will not complain in the least, only moan and sigh in pleasure.

He spreads his legs without any shame, presents his golden, decorated self to the other coquettishly, now content to enjoy his own glorious view of his lover’s strong body with rippling muscles shining with a thin layer of sweat, the fiery vermilion mane tousled and complimenting and clinging to his sun-kissed skin and, most importantly, the starved expression as he takes him in as he breathes heavily; his to own and love.

Nozel can’t help himself from lifting as heavy jeweled hand up to reach, which Fuegoleon takes with care, plants kisses to each finger, the back of his palm and the inside of his wrist. He noses it, traces circles in with his thumb, his finger fully capable of circling his thinness of it.

There are so many times he has felt petulant about their difference in height, at his own slenderer frame in comparison to Fuegoleon’s broadness. Instance like now, however, aren’t among them. He relishes in the broadness that overwhelms him, how easily and fully covered he becomes. It’s safe, warm and luminous.

His long legs are perched upon strong shoulders, Fuegoleon lines himself to his twitching hole and enters with one smooth thrust to the base, filling him until their hips touch. Nozel’s mouth gapes, a moan killed in his throat from the sudden bliss. The adamant preparation has made the burn of the stretch only pleasurably painful, really feeling every bit of the large girth and length in his body to the brim.

Nozel’s shallow breaths and pounding heart fill his hearing along with Fuegoleon’s heavy ones, cut off from everything else but them. He’s existing to a universe made and occupied by them alone, uncaring of the outside world, the problems and burdens and simply lets himself be taken.

No time for adjustment is needed and the pace of the thrusts is deep and searing from the very beginning, but not punishing. It’s like all of their previous adventures; Fuegoleon is never cruel or unkind or unloving to him, refused to treat him as nothing but precious no matter how Nozel has humiliated himself by begging him to be. There is aim for both their pleasure with each time his hips slap against Nozel’s, every time he pulls himself out, only to penetrate him more deeply than before.

His eyes never leave Nozel and he rocks their bodies together Roam from his lustful expression to the love bites he left, on the way the thin chains dig caress him all over. More particularly, the place where his shape can be seen in Nozel’s lower belly in a visible bulge from the distention. Nozel is arching his back, wanting it deeper and deeper, the bright crimson flush rampant on his face and body as he too becomes hypnotized by the imprint of Fuegoleon’s cock inside him. His hands gain a will of their own, trailing down the golden chains on his chest and downwards to trace it, feel it resurface with each thrust back. Fuegoleon’s wide palm comes upon his own. The touch is searing in its perverse, hypnotic intimacy.

Molten gold shines in his eyes in the moonlight, bolder that they’ve been all night and his pace turns overwhelming, both hands on Nozel’s hips to drive his plaint body deeper, holding there a little longer.

A breathy chuckle escapes him; Fuegoleon needs not engrave himself in Nozel. Both body and soul have been carved to his liking, for no one else but him. His inner walls clench rhythmically around his cock and he earns a moan in return, satisfaction shimmers in his veins.

He’s burning up so divinely, the jewelry chains only providing miniscule coolness now that they’ve gathered his heat, his dick steadily hardens again, the pleasure accumulating anew, stronger than before with all the additional stimulation. Shameless noises jump from his throat without his permission, that seem to stir the other further, set on having him incapable of neither walking nor talking for the next week.

Nozel rasps his name over and over like a prayer, with weakness he can’t fathom ever using outside. With need that burns within him in a fever with no other cure but Fuegoleon’s love and affection towards him, or else he’ll be torn from the inside out. Poured out of the so carefully crafted exterior.

His eyes shine with that need so visible that it makes Fuegoleon lean down and answers all those calls by leaning over, claiming his lips to a scorching kiss. The thrusts never pause or change their momentum, the new position and angle reaching even deeper inside Nozel, skin lewdly slapping against skin. The singing whines are swallowed by the other, eyes wide and streams of drool escape his mouth, run down his jaw along with the tears. Their tongues dance with Fuegoleon’s being given the lead, dominating his mouth with ease.

They pull apart when Nozel is nearly out of breath, his head lolling on the side, giving the opportunity to cover any possible leftover naked spots on his neck, a breathy half moan, half giggle on his lips.

A flash of stand-out colours appear in the corner of his eye, gains his attention and his gaze falls on the source; the mirror in their room with him, them in its reflection.

Nozel is staring at himself in the mirror; lips swollen and so red they are almost painted, mouth parted open and eyes wide and shiny with tears. Only a part of his neck and collarbones are visible, the paleness of his skin hidden by new, unfortunately temporary colours in shades of red, blue and violet as well as the golden of the chains and jewelry which glimmer uncontrollably under the moonlight.

The majority of his body is obscured by Fuegoleon’s broad frame, his equally decorated legs spread to an incredulous degree of flexibility as he’s getting fucked within an inch of his life.

_He looks like the perfect picture of a concubine- open and plaint and obscene. Useful for only looking pretty and giving pleasure to royals._

The realization settles in his reflection’s wide eyes; this picture is proven to be more than the one in the beginning of the night while he was dressing himself up. Maybe it hadn’t settled yet, overshadowed by the anticipation of his lover’s arrival. Now it does and he can’t stop looking away.

The next thought, however is not surprising him in the least. It comes like submerging in a bath, lets his muscles looser and mind calmer.

 _Nozel wouldn’t mind_. Being Fuegoleon’s concubine. Throw away his life, his status, his everything in a heartbeat if Fuegoleon asked him to be his in that way. He’d enjoy waiting for him, like he did tonight, wearing his colours only even if he things that they don’t suit him, for the sake of appearing beautiful in his lover’s eyes, invoke the hunger and lust in his eyes and coax him out of his burdens.

He’d wait for him in this very room, isolated in their little castle. Open and prepared for him to slip inside his body and take whatever pleasure he needs from him for as long as he desires. Nozel would gladly let him.

His reflection looks happy tonight. Ecstatic. His eyes are glimmering with pleasure. There is a rare lightness in his body and now he doesn’t know if he can leave without anymore. He has a lover that tends to him and from the expression on the handsome profile reflected in the mirror, he feels the same.

Fuegoleon catches his eye from the mirror, the serpentine gold and narrowed vertical pupils become the sole point of focus in the cold light of the moon. Nozel sees him assessing themselves in it before he pauses his movements while only the tip is inside him. Nozel whines at the loss petulantly, shuffles himself to become full again using the mirror to navigate himself better.

Fuegoleon catches his gaze not being focused on him, throws a frown in the mirror and like the ridiculous, jealous man he’s being tonight, he growls into Nozel’s crook of the neck, grabs his jaw and forces him to look back at the real him.

“Look at me, Nozel.” his voice is rough, it would be fatal if it were in battle.

With a shudder, he smiles and darts to runs his hands through his hair, combing the fiery strands flirtatiously, reassuringly and twirling them in his fingers.

His leg muscles are starting to strain from being stretched and open, bend at his tailbone but it is simply another burn that shows how real this moment is. No reflection can ever replace it and it doesn't disappear when his eyes close and open again.

The pleasure is pooling in his belly once more, his breath and heartbeat flutter frantically. Sensitive from his first orgasm, he's wired in every touch, every look with each nerve, overwhelming his mind with ecstasy. Nozel clings to Fuegoleon, bucks his hips weakly as watches with utter fascination at the grunts and moans of pleasure he causes to his lover. It makes his inner muscles clench in a vice like grip and a curse is hissed from Fuegoleon's mouth.

Pulling back to sit on his heels a determined look crosses him. For the first time during the night, he actively touches Nozel's cock, envelopes it with his broad palm and starts stroking. Each stroke is perfectly timed with the thrusting, never leaving him a moment to spare and think.

It doesn't take him long to reach his second climax, coming with a cry on Fuegoleon's hand, who follows him a couple of deep thrusts later. Nozel sighs at the warm essence painting his insides, clenches further around his cock milking him for what it's worth.

They come down from their high gradually with Fuegoleon sticks thrusting in him much slowly. Nozel actually sobs that the feeling of more painful oversensitivity, but he hides it by covering it with his hand closing his eyes to calm himself. He only needs a few moments to collect himself, take gulping breaths to refill his burning lungs. Fuegoleon is still hard in him, the night isn't over yet and he plans to make the most of it.

Suddenly, he's empty; his gaping hole leaks essence to the sheets. At the same time, a pair of hands is on his face, pulling his hand away and wiping the tears that have managed to escape despite his efforts.

"Nozel."

Opening his eyes he sees the violet eyes if his lover, full with concern for him.

"What-" his tongue feels heavy and dry in his mouth, his throat parched and raw.

"Are you alright?" Fuegoleon's doesn't sound too much better. Between them, he's undoubtedly the more composed, but his voice is far from an even baritone, slow and breathier. Tenderer too, as he addresses Nozel.

Before he can properly answer, scold the other for the moronic question with the horrendous timing, Fuegoleon flinches violently hands clutching at his head. Nozel is quick to share off the haze if bliss and approaches him but he escapes his reach, jaw now tightly clenched.

It's the influence causing this, he knows that even if the reason escapes him. Touching him will distance him more so he needs to call his lover back with something to look at him and to snap him out of the pain he must be going through.

Calling his name is futile, he promptly discovers. Nozel's mind spins, trying to decrypt Fuegoleon's instinctual behavior to find out why this is happening and how he can help fix it.

The headache started when Nozel looked like he was in actual pain, covering the signs of his turmoil. Fuegoleon's question may have been ill timed to Nozel, but to him it was genuine concern that spoke dissatisfaction to Fuegoleon's core instincts, the very same ones he tried to appease.

Nozel takes a deep breath, the solution easy to mind but not as much to the words. It's ridiculous, he reasons with himself. He'd already exposed so much to his beloved and this is what he's hesitating for?

Between the two of them, it’s unsurprisingly Fuegoleon that expresses himself and his feelings without any hint of fear or shame. They always bring profound gladness in Nozel, always makes a light shine in him, like everything about him does.

Nozel, on the other hand, the ‘unsmiling, marble cold statue’ as many outsiders tend to claim. They are partially right because he can’t do what his lover so effortlessly achieves.

It’s not a part of his nature, so he needs to put effort in making this part of himself better. To improve himself continuously, because he likes to see the light in Fuegoleon’s eyes brighten up when he achieves it.

He can't find himself to ask, but he has to take the leap, significantly smaller the more Fuegoleon's mana becomes erratic and distraught.

"Husband." he calls steadily with a quivering heart. The lone word rolls right out of his tongue so naturally. It makes him giddy actually, to be able to say it after silently playing it on his mind and lips.

Fuegoleon's eyes snap to him, wide and in a mixture of the interchanging colors. His whole body is frozen and Nozel takes the opportunity to get close fast and despite his liquified bones, sits on the other's lap and takes his face into his hands to force him to look at him.

Gold with specs of violet is staring back at him, stunned. Nozel carefully schools his expression into something calmer, the flush of the earlier activities fades away slowly.

"It’s alright." he whispers, "You should know better than everyone that I’m not some kind of maiden made of glass and unable to resist." years of sparring, their line of duty and work leave no room from fragility. Still, it feels flattering to be considered fragile, as if it's their first time when they were still exploring their boundaries and not years of sexual adventures together. The fantasy and the reality couldn’t be farther apart; Nozel can handle himself and his lover’s lustful appetite with a matching one of his own.

Closing his eyes, he presses a soft kiss on his lips, resting their foreheads together.

"It's alright." he repeats with more determination, gazes locking together, satisfied with how bolder the gold prevails and the hands coming to grip his hips. “I got you. I won’t leave your side." he will support him as he lets go, help him tame whatever behind the glimmering gold. Because that’s how they are. “I love you.”

The grip strengthens, it will leave another colorful message in his skin. Fuegoleon’s are oddly doe like, still on their natural colour as he looks at him.

“Do you mean it?” he asks, timidly so. Nozel makes sure to destroy that unfitting trait and bring back his bold, unrelenting lover with being bold and unrelenting himself.

“Every word is a vow. You belong to me as I belong to you.” he wouldn’t have it any other way, with no one else. Nozel’s heart has been gifted to the man in front of his and that won’t change to his very last breath.

Nozel leans in for a kiss, chaste but just as heavy in its importance, while smirking mischievously at the hardness digging against his thigh. In one fluid motion, he lifts his body and grabs Fuegoleon's cock and impales himself. Their lips disconnect and Nozel lets out a long, pleased sigh, rocking back and forth just enough to tease and urge the other on.

The way Fuegoleon lets go, how the doubts are drowned in molten gold is fascinating and he would stare at it forever, if it weren't for the hands moving his body to take in the deep thrusts. The purely painful edge of the oversensitivity has mellowed out, accompanied with the slickness from before make it easy to pick up the pace and reignite his arousal, his dick perks up as it ruts against Fuegoleon's abdomen, spreading his spent.

His eyes roll back his arms hugging Fuegoleon's head and pulls him close to his rattling heart, little sighs escape him when his attention returns to his already plentily marked chest, returns to sucking his pebbled nipples that has Nozel pulling at red strands hard. His lips feel empty again and so he pulls Fuegoleon to an extremely wet kiss with more tongue than actual lips.

The next orgasm comes with a muffled cry, much sooner due to the accumulating stimuli and his body now used to receiving pleasure. He comes on mostly Fuegoleon's stomach which he'd been rutting against in a leaning angle. It's not as crushing as the first one, but it's still felt profoundly in every cell in his body like a summer heatwave.

It takes longer to wear out Fuegoleon's stamina; and when he does, he makes sure that he is buried as deep as possible inside him before he spills inside Nozel with no drops to waste, all while one of his palms is feeling up his stomach and his teeth are gnawing at the shell of his right ear, the one that has received the most attention of the two. Nozel shudders, his embrace keeping his lover in place.

It's not just the stimulation from that spot or feeling of warm seed sloshing in his belly. The fleeting thought that the attention his right ear connects to the fact that engagement earrings for those engaged to a Vermillion are clasped there is only adding to his elation.

Their lips connect again, back to soft press of their lips while they ride out their orgasmic haze. Fuegoleon stays inside him, much to Nozel's approval as they wait to be ready for the next round.

Now there is a peace to the eyes that look at him, the gold devoid of rampaging fire and left to a tender homely warmth. They look at Nozel with no lesser desire but with added satisfaction. Pride swells in his next chuckle.

"I adore you." Fuegoleon tells him full of wonderment, buries his head to his chest, synchronizes his breathing to his now calmer heartbeat.

He looks up at window that shows the high moon and the pitch-black veil of the night, hiding all the stars for tonight. The night is still young. He looks down at the mirror; at themselves, entangled in each other's arms. Skin to skin.

It's an image oozing satisfaction and contentedness.

* * *

The following morning, Nozel wakes up from his short but restful slumber with a homely warmth around him.

Opening his eyes slowly, he stares at the sleeping face of his lover, breathing quietly and evenly from parted lips. His features are lax, there is no furrow between his brows nor clenching of his jaw. He's on his front, barely covered from the sheets, showing to Nozel the multiple red lines and love bites that he'd left last night for the first time.

He can't help but lightly caress them tenderly, unafraid to wake the other as he sleeps fairly deeply, especially after a night of sex. They aren't lying severely deep like a wound but they'll keep their place in Fuegoleon's skin for a fair amount of days.

Just seeing them bring the feeling of his own up, a lot more in number and many deeper etched into him, as well as a small shiver at the morning breeze entering from the open window. Looking around, finds his robe close to the bed and reaches for it. Soreness catches up to him, coming from his waist, lower back and waist, the rest of his body stiff and boneless at the same time. Every move of his body accentuates the sensations.

Just when the fabric barely settles on his body, something is warped around his stomach pulling him to furnace like heat.

"You won't need that." Fuegoleon murmurs in a husky sleep heavy voice, pulling the garment down and expose his nape, planting a kiss right on the large circular mark he left last night. He tightens his embrace around him until Nozel's back is perfectly flush to his chest. "Not when you have me."

Nozel huffs a breathy laughter, lightly shrugging off his lover's wandering mouth from his shoulder and neck, readjusting the robe pristinely again.

"You’ve done enough already." he looks at him over his shoulder, fingers tracing his own skin sensually, riveting in the way Fuegoleon's hot violet gaze follows them in rapidly reawakening hunger. After he had his fun, his wears the robe fully around him to cover the majority of his skin.

Fuegoleon groans lowly, full of hidden immaturity, "You can't afford teasing me like that, Nozel. It's cruel of you."

He lets out a breath of a chuckle. It's good that the other is in such an elated mindset in the morning, with no signs of discomfort.

Speaking of, "Are you feeling better?"

He regrets the question the moment it fully leaves his lips. The change in the calm and joyous air around them gains weight, Fuegoleon's demeanor becomes somber from the edge of his mana to his features regaining their usual furrow of his brows.

His grip tightens above his abdomen, while one hand reaches for his own to intertwine their fingers.

"My head feels lighter. Clearer." he responds, "I can feel something still lurking in the back, but for now it has receded and became calmer."

"Good." he nods in obvious relief, his own chest lighter too.

His lover doesn't share it though, his mouth is still pressed in a thin, pensive line.

"I couldn't help but feel uneasy." he murmurs to his hair. Breathes him in.

“You shouldn’t. I’ve already told you, didn’t I? Do not make me repeat myself.”

Fuegoleon chuckles this time, “As you say, sweetheart.” he presses his lips on his temple to which Nozel hums in approval.

“You have other tasks to tend to.”

“Such as?”

“I’m in dire need of a bath.” a blush crawls to his face despite his efforts to control his body, “And, incapacitated to do it myself.” The following day always leaves him with a feeling of mild disgust. There is sweat and maybe a bit of blood covering his whole body, as well as essence dripping down his thighs and drying or staining the beautiful robe. The fabric clings in a way he doesn’t quite enjoy on his sweaty skin.

Fuegoleon reacts the way he had expected him to, eyes darkening and smug smirk on his lips, unashamed of being the reason of Nozel’s next-day discomfort.

“I’ll be sure to take care of it quickly.” he claims, knowing exactly how particular Nozel can be and not wanting to distress him in this rare and peaceful morning, “But first, there is a more important responsibility I must tend to.”

He unwraps his arm from around him, the warmth cling to his back is gone too with it. Nozel can’t see what is happening behind him and Fuegoleon is back before he can turn around.

His lover presents a small box with the Vermillion crest on it, carved in the dark reddish wood. Nozel can feel his heartbeat accelerating as Fuegoleon takes his hands and puts it right on his palm. He tries to shoot down any hopeful ideas but he absolutely cannot. His fingers tremble and the corners of his eyes sting lightly as he opens it slowly. As if he wants to both open it fast and keep it close forever at the same time.

The first guess of his heart is proven right at the sight of the small crimson ear cuff, glimmering in the morning light. Or Nozel’s teary eyes might add that effect, he doesn’t know. He keeps focus on the accessory like it’ll disappear the moment he loses sight of it, even by blinking.

It’s small and beautiful. Crimson and smooth. It can appear simple at a first or passing glance, but it’s truly not. The engravings on it, miniscule and only achievable with the skill of an excellent craftsman. He can see the emblem of both the Vermillion and Silva houses on it in delicate lines, as well as a couple of others. Its size didn’t seem to restrict the meaning and gravitas of it.

Fuegoleon’s hand comes to wipe the tears he hadn’t realized were flowing.

“May I?” Nozel nods and watches his lover take the ear cuff from the box with his larger, longer fingers. His gaze is draws to the mirror, continues to see and feel them trace the shell of his ear and the cool metal is clasped around it.

Like the robe, it’s distinct on him, can be seen clearly when framed by the silver of his hair. They both match at this very moment, and he rethinks his previous thought about not liking the colour on him.

There is a moment of silence, to realize what is happening. His dream just became true, he has proof on him that he full belongs to Fuegoleon. And in some time for now, there will be a celebration where they will officially consummate their bond, Fuegoleon will wear a Silva emblem on himself as well.

If their future looked looked bright before, now it appears heavenly, perfect. The obstacles and doubts and fears shrink to nothingness, insignificant.

He watches himself trace it too. Its coolness and sturdiness of the infrangible material make it all the more real, the pad of his finger drags on it and feels the carved shapes smoothly.

“You,” he croaks, “You should have started with this last night.” he might say that, but his voice has no bite in it. A smile is forming on his lips, widening by the moment.

Fuegoleon continues to wipe the tears as they come, caressing his cheekbone in the process. He chuckles at his words, not as loud, similarly overwhelmed and taking this all in himself.

“It was ready six months ago. I’ve wanted to find the right moment to ask you.” He sighs, “But it never came. And with my getting injured-” he doesn’t elaborate, but Nozel knows well.

“That moment never came. Admittedly, I became hesitant. Cowardly.” it doesn’t elicit a frown out of him, like it normally wound. Instead, he tilts Nozel’s head and shuffles him to look at him without the help of the mirror.

“But my magnificent, gorgeous lover shattered all of that because in the end they don’t matter.” he rests his forehead upon Nozel’s, “Nothing but you matters. I want to spend the rest of my life together, have a ceremony joined with our loved ones. Live all of it with you.”

Nozel wraps his arms around his neck and hugs him close, clings to him with all his strength, making Fuegoleon grunt. Thankfully, there are no tears flowing anymore, his heart however is drumming rapidly in his chest, threatening to break out of his chest.

“I know it’s not the perfect, romantic way to propose. I’ll make it up to you.”

Nozel sniffles and swallows the lump in his throat, “While it’s different from what I imagined.” he admits, pecks Fuegoleon’s lips once, “I don’t care as long as it’s you.”

Fuegoleon beams, a boyish grin on his face that eliminates any trace of worry or seriousness and makes him look carefree and younger. Without the world relying on his shoulders. Without something plaguing him.

In his dreams, Nozel imagined being asked for marriage many times, each different from next. In truth they were all ideal because it was Fuegoleon that asked him. And in truth, none of them were ideal because they weren’t real.

All he wanted was a moment of peace and the two of them. Nothing else. Whatever he wants to make up to Nozel is unneeded. Right here, right now, being in his lover’s - _his future husband’s_ , he reminds himself full of glee- this is perfection.

Fuegoleon locks his arm under his knees in preparation to lift him up. “Shall I help you bathe, husband?”

Nozel shudders. Hearing it addressed to himself sends molten lava to his stomach. He wants to listen to it again and again and he’s sure it’ll never grow old even when they do.

“Later.” he moves himself fully on his knees, face to face with Fuegoleon, “There is still much time left until we must be back. It wouldn’t be wise to clean up only to become dirty again.” he kisses Fuegoleon’s jaw, down to his neck.

The grip on the robe is loonesed, then falls down his shoulders, leaving him bare.

He smiles down at Fuegoleon, “Let us rejoice, dear husband.” 

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I know a Salamander and a Dragon aren't the same, but this particular one looks like a dragon so I take it idc.  
> 2\. Also yes, I'm taking one canon event and milking it for all it's worth, I'm not ashamed. I feed on Canon crumbs and saltwater.
> 
> Tumblr @ callalilalma
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


End file.
